


Body Art

by moon_opals



Category: Disney Duck Universe, DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Gen, Goldie loves her grandkid she just sucks at showing love, Raunchy Grandma, Scrooge is mentioned, Takes place directly after The Golden Lagoon of White Agony Plains, Trash Grandma Goldie O'Gilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 21:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16375259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_opals/pseuds/moon_opals
Summary: When your raunchy, criminal grandma sneaks into your apartment and requests a commission, remember she pays your college tuition and accept one simply does not say no to Goldie O’Gilt.





	Body Art

“What do you want,” Dickie said the moment she entered her apartment and saw her grandma waiting on the couch. Lounging comfortably in the common room, Goldie flipped through a pamphlet on safe sex (an expecting mother caressed her swollen stomach on the cover) when she heard the door open and raised her head, grinning from corner to corner.

“Good advice, kid.” She fanned the pamphlet before tossing it on the coffee table, “Wish these services were available when I was young, or when your mom was. Wouldn’t be in the mess we are now.”

“Whatever you want I can’t do it.” Dickie dropped her bags and wallet on the counter. Going to the kitchen, she opened various cabinets, mentally preparing her evening dinner, “Are you on the run? Which government entity did you piss off now? Or did you start another interdimensional war?”

“I did that _one_ time, and you made a perfect liaison for the two warring factions,” Goldie picked at the fruit centerpiece, plucking more than an acceptable amount of grapes.

“I almost died.” Dickie slammed the cabinet door closed, swirling around to meet her smirk with an aggravated glare, “And I only lived after decapitating the general of the Pandemonium Army, which was impossible to avoid due to you sabotaging my peace treaty negotiations.”

Goldie clasped her chest as if offended. “It is not my fault they left the Eye of Demogorgona in a poorly secured area,” she crossed her arms where the aforementioned jewel peaked between her cleavage, “all they had were two guards, and not even their best ones. They were asking to be robbed."

“It was on display as a sign of friendship and peace.” Dickie massaged the skin between her eyes. Seeing Goldie reach for more grapes, she sharply smacked her hand, ignoring her surprised yelp, “And let it be known for prosperity, I was in this position because you insisted it was going to be a ‘fun family vacation’.”

“And it was!” Goldie snapped, “We went in together, we got out together, and the monetary value of our souvenirs are absolutely priceless!"

“We nearly died together.”

Goldie paused blankly. "But did you die?"

"Lowering my expectations would make this much easier to accept." Dickie dropped a pack of lasagna noodles on the counter. "If you must know, which I think you need to know for your personal reference, being gifted the Blade of Pandemonium wasn’t an achievement.”

“Do you still have it?"

She found her pasta sauce, grinning in satisfaction. “Of course, I still have it,” rolling her eyes, some of her frustration started to subside, “I use it for decoration, and...occasional weaponry.”

“You live in a sketchy part of town.” Goldie frowned, tucking her hand underneath her beak, “You could live in the dorms, or at least a neighborhood with less character.”

Glaring softly at her, Dickie popped the top, “The contract is simple, O’Gilt.” She pulled out a pan from a lower cabinet, “You pay tuition. I pay for everything else.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re in that rebellious stage where you want to prove you’re smarter than the smarties, tougher than the toughies, and -,”

"Lets stop right there. We don't need that here."

Goldie snorted, shrugging indifferently, “Do you have any idea how many times I've heard that. On and on and on,” she fingered the cement tiles filled with aged grime and dirt, “and sure, maybe I did come here for something, but first, I wanted to say congratulations.”

“Congratulations?” Glancing over her shoulder, Dickie studied Goldie’s almost but not exactly contrite expression, “What are you doing here, Nana?”

“I found out about your commission work. Glomgold Enterprises.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I know you’ve been working years for an opportunity like this, and as insufferable as the charlatan is,” she cracked her neck, chewing on phrases she’d prefer to use (but aware Dickie wouldn’t approve), “it's going to make your resume shine, and I'm proud and happy, for you.”

“Wow.” Dickie pulled back, momentarily muted with surprise. “You want a commission.” She asked, “I sense this is what you're going for, right?"

Goldie chuckled, “Yeah, it is, and I’m paying you, so you don’t have to worry about getting a freebie,” she spun on the chair, blond hair swishing at her shoulders.

“What are you looking for?”

“Still in the body pillow market?”

“Depends, what are you paying?” Dickie paused, “And what am I designing?” They ignored the quiver in her question; suspicion knotted in its texture.

“Recently came into an abundant amount of gold." Goldie smirked at her moderately interested stare. She shrugged off the second question, "A simple body pillow thing.”

“Yeah, I get that part, but what’s the reference? I can't go in blind."

“No worries, honey, I got what you need.” Goldie dug into her back pocket and pulled out a photograph. Unable to see its subjects, she was able to see from its corners that it was an old one. “You can use this. Artistic license is preferred,” Goldie grinned encouragingly, “you’ve always been a creative soul.”

Dickie tilted her head, “Are you...is this...why.” She set the photograph face down on the counter, “Nana, seriously, why?” Curling her hands on the counter, she tried her best to maintain a professional if calm disposition, but the gentle twitch of her lower eyelid betrayed her.

“I didn’t know who else to ask.”

“Believe it or not the body pillow market is huge.” Dickie waggled the photo in her face, “Giant, huge, countless artists - everywhere, at your disposal, and of all these available artists you use me, your granddaughter, and you use this, for my reference?”

“It isn’t explicit,” Goldie defended.

“These are bedroom eyes.” Dickie gagged. She inhaled above the pot, satisfied the water had gone to boil; she sliced open her pasta and dropped them in, “Bedroom eyes, which I’m going to presume were made for you. So, I can’t conclude you came by this through illegal means.” She paused. “How did you come by this?”

“How old is your mom?”

“Forget I asked.”

“Look, you’re good at what you do. The best, and I want the best. Will you do it?”

“I...yeah…,” she ran her fingers through her hair, back leaning against the counter edge. “Fifty.”

Goldie gripped the remaining grapes in her hand. Grape juice spilled out of her palm onto the formerly clean counter. “Please.” Her hoarse chuckle ended with a scoff, "Forty, tops."

“45, and I know how much you love embroidery.”

“42.”

“He is my granddad,” she said. “100, take it or leave it.”

Goldie scowled. “Dammit.” Rolling her eyes, she set an arm on the counter. Her bitter smacked lips met with Dickie’s smug, crooked stare, “Make it amber rose embroidery, and we’ll call it a deal.”

“Stay for dinner to seal it.”

“Fine,” Goldie waved her hands, getting off the stool. She paused, shoulders upright, and did a quick double take. “Wait, what?” Dickie smirked at her before disappearing to find a baking sheet. Goldie leaned over the counter, “You want me to stay?”

"If I only had my camera and my hands weren't covered in tomato sauce.” Spraying baking spray on the pan, she shrugged, “I read about your Glomgold Gala appearance. Color me interested, but you can dice those peppers as you tell me the story. Gonna go out on a limb and say you found your map to White Agony Plains.”

Goldie laughed. “You’d win that bet, as you should having learned from the best.” She got off the stool, washed her hands, and picked up the sharpest knife in the kitchen drawer, “Invest in Eclipsa’s Infernal Knife Set. Can get it discount at the Interdimensional Bloody Sunday Sale.”

“I’ll put it on my shopping list next time I visit Mom.”

“Knowing her she’s probably already procured a personal set.” Goldie chuckled, staring at the bellpepper she slowly began to slice, her movements quickening as the pepper gave way to gravity. When dusk covered the country in twilight, she’d slip out a window while Dickie slept soundly in her bed nearby. “For now, he can wait,” she murmured, “he knows where to find me.”

“Yeah, Nana?”

“Nothing, kid.” Grabbing a larger yellow pepper, she began to dice, wagging her blade to the bubbling pot, “And make sure you don’t let them sit for too long. Chewy noodles make for terrible lasagna.”

Dickie laughed. “Yes, Nana,” she checked the pot, “let's give thirty more minutes. We want it tender, not hard, and certainly not chewy.”

“Where do you want me to start?”

“We’ll skip the uncomfortable sexual tension -,”

“Sorry kid, there’s a lot of that in this story.”

“And we’ll skip to what happened when you got to Dawson, after making the deal with Glomgold.”

Goldie raised an eyebrow.

Dickie shrugged, “What? You’re Goldie O’Gilt. Isn’t it kind of your thing?”

“It very much is my thing.” She slicked the pepper easily, quickly; gleeful as the pepper devolved into brightly colored rings on the cutting board. “And if it wasn't, young lady, you wouldn't exist, so you're welcome."

“Hmmm...I don't think that's something you should brag about, or brag about to me."

Goldie chuckled, catching a sight over her shoulder; before Dickie noticed, she snatched the photo off the counter and slipped it quietly into her jacket pocket. But as discreet and gentle her action was, the touch was familiar, and Dickie spun around, stare flickering towards Goldie’s wondering hand.

“Use this.” Knowing no shame, her unabashed expression grinned beside Dickie’s mildly disgusted glare. “It’s great reference,” she winked.

Dickie’s left eye twitched, and she slowly returned to her sauce preparation. “Sure, Nana,” but underneath her disgust and twitching eye lied relief. She'd focus on that.

**Author's Note:**

> Gotta love your irresponsibly criminal grandma who pays your ridiculously high tuition.


End file.
